


You're Only as Old as the People You Feel

by punkrockgaia



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Age Difference, Back Problems, M/M, getting fit, legal age gap, working out
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-15
Updated: 2014-04-15
Packaged: 2018-01-19 12:24:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1469719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punkrockgaia/pseuds/punkrockgaia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos and Cecil adjust to their age difference in a variety of creative ways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Only as Old as the People You Feel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kinkvale](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Kinkvale).



> This is outside my normal headcanon and universe, but it's so much fun, how can I resist? This is in response to an anonymous prompt on Kinkvale. (kinkvale.tumblr.com) Thanks!

"Oh... Oh, yes... Oh, yesss.. Oh... Oh! Oh! Ow! My back! Mybackmybackmyback ow ow ow Cecil get off me **right now**!" 

Cecil gave a little squeak of alarm and clambered off of Carlos' lap. There was a soft "squick" sound as Carlos' lubed and rapidly-deflating cock pulled out of his ass. Carlos was on his back, shoulders atop the oversized ottoman in the living room, hips and bent legs off the ottoman, and what seemed to be an infinite area of muscle spasm between the two. He was struck with a sudden realization -- while he couldn't boost himself up or pull himself into a standing position, lying half on and half off was intolerably painful. Sacrificing his last shred of dignity, he groaned and rolled off the side and onto the scratchy rug. 

Cecil sat in front of him, tailor-style, eyes gawking wide behind his glasses. "Oh, my darling Carlos, are you all right?" Carlos couldn't help but notice that despite the moment having been so rudely interrupted, despite his worry, despite his partner lying in a shambles on the floor, Cecil's erection had flagged not one bit.

 _Damn kids,_ Carlos thought, in his best cranky old man voice. Okay, Cecil wasn't actually a kid, per se, and well past the age of consent, but the principle still applied.

"Yes, I'm fine, just fine, just let me die here on the floor, will you?"

He scrunched his eyes shut and grimaced. "This is all my fault. All my fault. I never should have suggested we try the 'Bridge Over the Aching Void.' It's... It's a stupid position, anyway."

"Hmmm, just half an hour ago you were saying it was your favorite position of all time. I seem to remember phrases like 'mind-melting' and 'fucking cosmic.'"

Cecil blushed. "Oh, you know how I exaggerate. Anyway, it doesn't matter. You're broken now and it's all my fault! Oh, foolish, stupid Cecil!" He wailed and covered his face with his long-fingered hands.

Ignoring the pain it sent through his lower back, Carlos reached out and grabbed Cecil's wrists, pulling his hands away from his face. "Hey. Stop it. None of that. It's not your fault. We just have to remember that I'm not getting any younger, you know? I mean, I know you're used to dating people closer to your own age. It's only natural that you would be used to having things a little more athletic. I'm sorry that I'm dragging you down."

"Oh, oh, no, Carlos, no!" Cecil swooped down and covered the side of his face with kisses. "You never, ever drag me down. Not ever. You're the best thing that ever happened to me."

"In your brief experience," grumbled Carlos. Then he saw Cecil's stricken expression and backpedaled. "I'm sorry, Baby. I'm just humiliated and sore, that's all. Can we call it a night?"

"Of course, my perfect angelic love. Here, let me help you up." Cecil stood and tried to lift him, but it was no use. Moving off the floor simply hurt the other man too much. He brought a damp washcloth and cleaned them both up, then grabbed a few throw pillows from the couch and the afghan Old Woman Josie made them for a housewarming gift and settled in next to him for a romantic night on the living room floor. He snuggled up to Carlos' side, and Carlos felt something stiff press against his thigh. 

"Baby, you want me to get you off?"

Cecil pushed his head into the pillow, embarrassed. "Noo, you don't have to, I mean, well, if you _insist_ , then, but no, no, please don't trouble yourself."

"It's no trouble at all, really. Let me make you feel good." He reached down and started to slowly pump Cecil's rock-hard dick. 

_Damn kids._

****  
The next morning, Carlos woke up stiff and sore, but thankfully it seemed as though there was no permanent skeletal or neurological damage, just throbbing muscles. 

Speaking of throbbing muscles, there was Cecil, still curled up asleep next to him. Lord, he was beautiful. Carlos had never meant to fall in love with someone more than fifteen years his junior. In fact, he'd fought against it for an entire year. But fall he had, and fallen completely. He justified it by telling himself that Cecil was far older than his 26 years, that he had what New-Agey types would call "an old soul." But even though his soul might be old, he had a young, lithe, sexy body that was used to having sex with other young, lithe, sexy bodies. 

Carlos realized that he was at a crossroads. He didn't know if he'd ever get over feeling like a dirty old man for loving Cecil, but he had a choice: he could be a decrepit dirty old man, or he could be a smoldering sexpile of a dirty old man. Or if not exactly a smoldering sexpile, someone who could get through sex without the services of a chiropractor. The choice was obvious.

Cecil's eyes fluttered open and locked onto Carlos'. He smiled sleepily. 

"Hey, there, handsome..." he murmured.

"Hey, there, yourself." 

"How you feeling?"

"Better. Not great, but... better."

"Mmm, that's good..." He kissed him softly on the lips. "And now that you're feeling better, I believe I owe you something." He nuzzled Carlos' neck, then began to kiss his way across his chest, then down his gently pudgy abdomen. Carlos closed his eyes and gasped as Cecil took him into his mouth.

He was the luckiest dirty old man in the world.

****  
It's amazing what an good old-fashioned morning blowjob can do for a fella. Carlos went to work that morning with a spring in his step, a gleam in his eye, and a bright, shiny sense of motivation vis-a-vis Project "Total Remodel."

He took time that morning to work out a plan of attack. He wanted to get in better condition, to love Cecil the way he deserved to be loved. And he wanted it to be a surprise, partly because Cecil loved surprises, but mostly because he wasn't entirely sure he would succeed. If he'd learned one thing as a scientist, it was that it was better to wait until all the data was in before the results were published. He went online and did his research, then figured out what he needed to do. He began to implement his plan that afternoon.

It wasn't easy. He wasn't naturally someone who loved to exercise, but he sucked it up and joined the only gym in Night Vale. He began to visit it during his lunch breaks, lifting weights, working on his cardio, and, most importantly, strengthening his core.

It sucked, but every time he felt his will start to flag, he pictured Cecil's luscious ass. Good lord, the thing was like two balloons filled with ballistics gel. It was amazing. He wanted to eat a fucking hot caramel sundae off of it. 

Well, maybe some Greek yogurt with a drizzle of honey, because eating better was a pillar of his self-improvement plan as well. And that wasn't easy, either, not when Cecil was scarfing down tacos from Jerry's or making three bowls of Flaky O's his dinner while Carlos was stuck with his grilled chicken and his steamed broccoli and his brown rice. But then Cecil's tongue would sneak out to lap up a stray grain of rice from Carlos' chin, and his sense of purpose again stiffened, as it were.

****

It took a dishearteningly long time, but eventually all the effort began to pay off. His strength was improving, along with his libido and his stamina. Cecil was quite appreciative of that, along with the muscles that had begun to ripple along his arms, chest, back, and abs. Still, though, Carlos couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. Cecil had gotten clingy, pouting when Carlos couldn't meet him for lunch, trying to tempt him into an extra slice at Big Rico's. It was frustrating. He was going through all of the torture for him, after all. Sure, he hadn't told him that, but it was almost time. Just a little more flab to lose, and then he could reveal himself as the man of Cecil's dreams. 

He was drowning his troubles in a sugar-free protein shake when the door swung open and Cecil slouched through it.

"Hey, Babe, welcome home!"

"Hey," Cecil mumbled, not meeting his eyes. He hung up his jacket and shuffled down the hall to the bedroom. Carlos followed him.

"Is something wrong, Ceese?"

Cecil shrugged and took off his pants, but a moment later he sighed and rested his head against the closet door. 

"Are you getting tired of me, Carlos?"

"What? No!"

"Because if you are, you can just tell me."

"No, but I'm not! Why would you even think that?"

"You've been acting so weird. You're changing so much, you never have any time for me... I called the lab, and they said you weren't there, that you were at the gym..."

"I _was_ at the gym!"

"And so I put all of those things into Google, and you know what the first result was? 'Five Signs Your Man Wants Out'! And guess how many of the signs you had? Four!"

"Oh, Ceese..."

"Four out of five! That's like seventy-five percent! And you know what? If you want out, just go! I'll be fine, I always am."

"Actually, it's eighty percent, but..."

"I just don't understand why you couldn't just tell me, why I had to play detective on the Internet to find it out! How did I not see this coming? Oh, stupid, stupid Cecil, I should just uncover all the mirrors and --"

Carlos could see that he wasn't going to get a word in edgewise, so he grabbed Cecil by the shoulders and turned him around to face him, then kissed him roughly. Cecil pulled back from him with a gasp. Carlos leaned in and kissed him again, gentler, then whispered against his lips. 

"Cecil," he kissed him again. 

"I will never," _kiss_.

"Ever," _kiss_.

"Leave you." _kiss_. He pressed his body against Cecil's, hands smoothing from his hair down his shoulders and his sides, ending by cupping his glorious ass. "I promise."

"Then why?"

"Because of this." He grabbed Cecil by the thighs and lifted him up so that Cecil's back rested against the wall next to the closet.

Cecil squealed and wrapped his legs around Carlos' waist. "B-but Carlos! Your back!"

"No worries. It's a simple matter of physiology." He ground his hips against Cecil's, tingling at the moan that Cecil made. "And anatomy." He slipped Cecil's boxers down to his thighs, then shimmied off his own pajama bottoms. "Not to mention chemistry." He grabbed the lube from the top of the nightstand. "And, of course, physics." He canted his hips so that the tip of his cock slid between Cecil's cheeks.

Cecil groaned. "Gods, I love science."

"And science loves you. Here, let me show you." He carefully braced himself so that Cecil wouldn't fall, then squeezed some lube onto his fingers and worked the first into Cecil's tight hole, crooking it just so. Cecil shuddered and thrust against him. "Careful, Babe, I don't want to drop you." He added the next finger and began to slowly work them in and out. He could feel Cecil's heart thunder against his chest. "You ready, Baby?"

"Oh, yesss..."

Carlos pressed a burning kiss to the side of Cecil's neck, then lubed his cock, spread Cecil wide, and thrust in. Cecil made a desperate, choking sound in the base of his throat.

Oh, the glories of hormones and synapses and the autonomic response. Every nerve ending in Carlos' skin fired and sparkled as he pounded into Cecil. And it wasn't just biochemicals and electricity, it was something else. 

It was love. 

Cecil's body molded to him like it was made of putty; long, lovely thigh muscles wrapped tight around him and quivering with sweet tension and pleasure. His hands clawed at Carlos' newly-muscular back. His cock bobbed desperately between their sweaty bodies, head wet and glistening with precome. He whimpered with need.

Carlos leaned in and nuzzled his earlobe. "Baby, can you touch yourself? I don't want to lose my grip on you... We're both pretty slippery."

Cecil gasped and complied. Carlos looked down, and the sight of his lover pleasuring himself while he pounded his ass was breathtaking. The air around them was humid with desire and smelled of lube, of sex, and of Cecil. He pressed them both tight to the wall and slammed his cock home faster and faster. Cecil's wails made the walls reverberate and ring in the small apartment, and he loosed a sharp, violent cry as he spasmed, hot come spattering Carlos' abdomen. It was all he needed to push him over the edge.

It was like an explosion in his soul. Everything around him was bright, and glorious, and infinite. Everything around him was Cecil. He called out Cecil's name through the shocks, heard Cecil sobbing his own in return. He grasped him tight and marveled that Cecil seemed to weigh nothing at all.

A few minutes later, he became acutely aware that his muscles were quivering like a pan of finger Jello, and he gently lowered Cecil to the floor, then collapsed beside him. "... And that's why I've been hitting the gym," he gasped.

Cecil beamed at him. "Really? You did all that for ME?"

"Yes. I wanted to be good for you. I wanted to look good. I wanted to be able to do all your favorite positions."

Cecil giggled, then kissed him on the cheek. "Silly Carlos. You've always looked just perfect to me, and my favorite position is next to you." He sighed and lay his head on Carlos' chest. "Although if you felt like retrying the 'Bridge Over the Aching Void,' I'll be ready to go again in a few minutes."

Carlos groaned. _Damn kids._

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to come howl at the void with me at punkrockgaia.tumblr.com!


End file.
